Letter to the Evening Telegram

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An article my father wrote.

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You can’t have half a lie.  You can’t have half a conscience.  It’s like trying to have half a flame or half a hole.  You can have a big lie or a small lie, a big flame or a small flame; but you still have a flame, hole, lie, etc.

Well poaching is just like that.  There is no such thing as half a poach.  Poaching is as absolute as lying.  You lie or you don’t.  You poach or you don’t.  The fifty-first partridge taken by any one person in one year is a poached partridge.  Any moose moved from were it was killed, without first being tagged, is a moose that was poached.

Weather the moose was killed by a silver bullet, a snare, or a bloody Karati chop doesn’t make a peck of difference.  Weather it was transported by plane, on foot or by broomstick couldn’t matter less.  And weather it landed at Gander Lake, Paddy’s Pond or Stinky Bridge makes it no less a poached moose.

Now! Anyone! Anyone! Anyone who argues that the moose that was landed at Paddy’s Pond, untagged, was not poached is either naively stupid or a bald faced liar.

Rich and powerful people with rich and powerful guns and rich and powerful transportation can poach.  The authorities and the government proved that beyond a doubt a couple of weeks ago.

However the average Newfoundlander is not permitted to poach.  He is confronted by court appearances, fines, and sentences, confiscations and generally disgrace.  The authorities and the government have been proving that since the Wildlife Regulations came into existence.

The obvious questions are:  How powerful do you have to become before you become subject to the law?  How much money, how powerful a gun, what mode of transportation makes one immune to the law?  A question that follows is; When will the degree of wealth and or power necessary to permit carte blance hunting be written into our laws?  Another question is:  How many cohorts are permit at any given time to fall under the carte blanche umbrella of the omnipotent hunter?

If these questions seem facetious, then, stop and read again and think.  Frank Moores, John Lundrigan and their safari companions are poachers.  I am not branding them.  An untagged moose in an aircraft at Paddy’s Pond branded them.  Resipse loquatur; the thing speaks for it’s self.

Now then if Mr. Moores can poach, can his family poach?  If Mr. Lundrigan can poach, can his family also poach?  Is it limited only to immediate families, or do in-laws count?

Other interesting queries are:  If they can poach, can they shoplift?  Can they drive impaired?  Can they break the speed limits?

These are straightforward, simple, relevant questions.  Were does the law stop and the authority, position of wealth of an individual raise above the law?

Before moving into the liberal Leadership and the St. John’s West bi-election I’d like to state something which should be obvious to all but the mentally moribund:  Absolutely no one, in or out of Wildlife, in or out of government has the authority to give after the fact permission to poach.  No one!  And now from the lofty heights of poaching, ever downward into politics.

LIBERALISM

We liberals will choose a leader the coming fall.  I will certainly be in that leadership race.  I will be there, hopefully, as the member for St. John’s West, for there is no question of my seeking the St. John’s West Liberal nomination.  That was decided long ago.

Mr. Roberts considers St. John’s West as a testing ground for Mr. Rowe.  I agree.  For a fact it’s a good testing ground for any leadership aspirant- including Mr. Roberts.  Mr. Rowe is a bit leery; understandably so.  I believe that both these gentlemen have held safe seats.  And another test of leadership is weather or not you can put another candidate in you safe seat.  Smallwood could.  Mr. Rowe presently holds no seat.  St. John’s West could be a golden opportunity for him to re-enter the House.  Mr. Roberts holds a safe seat.  I suggest he resign that seat which could be filled by a Liberal in a bi-election and enter the St. John’s West contest to prove his leadership capabilities once and for all.

As Leader he should think of what a positive vote of confidence he would be placing in himself and his party.  Surely he realizes that the interest which would be generated in the election could only be a great plus for the Liberal Party which he hopes to continue to lead.  It is unnecessary to say that should Bill Rowe then not enter the race he could forget his leadership aspirations at least for this time.

I, personally, would relish the opportunity to contest the St. John’s West nomination against messrs Roberts and Rowe.  I firmly believe that the bi-election could be the high point in seven less than glorious Liberal years and a grand boost for Liberals through out the province.  It could also be an enticing display of political decency and political integrity for those Newfoundlanders that want badly to vote Liberal in the next general election.

But no matter if it’s Roberts, Shea or Rowe who wins St. John’s West or Roberts, Shea or Rowe who wins the Leadership, one thing is certain. Newfoundland must see within this year a loyal, cohesive, Liberal Party, determined, eager and prepared to take the reigns of government.  And that Party must be the pillar of political decency.

We must always be mindful that a Democracy should have on the Opposition benches, the makings of a viable government, or that Democracy will suffocate from political arrogance. 

Speaking of politicians:

He died and everyone swore to a man
They voted for him every time he ran.
A harmless thought and said as though by rote:
Now, dead, it seemed he did deserve their vote.
Seemed now that they’d wished him into hell,
“Cause he was good and honest.  They could tell.
No doubt about it now, sir, No, by God!
No better man was put beneath the sod.
Oh, well, God rest his soul; he’s better off.
Let’s all go on back home and have a scoff.
Scoff they went to eat and drink their fill
While his nibs made his rapid ride downhill.
Condemned by Justice to eternal fire,
For being so notorious a liar.
And don’t you know that as the gravel fell,’
This straight faced whore’s whelp sauntered into hell.
Scanned his District, called for attention to declare:
“Well, now, first I’m gonna get you out of here.” 

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